silence (in the stillness of the night)
by Maybesandhopefullys
Summary: Often, when they have a particularly colourful fight, she finds him curled up in their bed. She knows better than to try and fix it with words, so she curls her small body around his, her apology silent in the stillness of the night.


When they are not shouting at each other they do not need to talk to relay their thoughts. They can communicate through looks and touches, the words said in anger forgotten with a simple embrace. Calm can be brought with just the brush of a hand, one look from Leia can quieten Han's next rude remark before it even escapes his lips.

Han may not have the force, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know exactly what Leia is thinking. He knows her well enough to know that when her brow furrows and her fingers tap her leg erratically she wants out; that this situation, this person, will face the full force of her anger if he doesn't get her away quick. He also knows what she needs when her eyes darken with each glance in his direction and her whole being seems to tense up. That's his favourite one; he doesn't mind helping her release those pent up emotions in the nearest broom closet.

He may enjoy _that_ kind of communication but he also discovers he doesn't think it too awful when she finds him in the Falcon's cockpit after a long, trying day and just climbs onto his lap. He does not ask for an explanation, he just wraps his arms around her as she buries her face his chest. And when she eventually drifts off into the inky abyss of sleep he doesn't move, content to enjoy this peaceful moment with her in his arms.

Neither does he mind waking up pressed against her bare back, the smell of last night's activities still clinging to them and the sheets. Their little cocoon of happiness; free from the worries of meetings and the never ending questions they receive from those young enough to think the glory of war is something to be proud of. Han much prefers it when it is just the two of them without any barriers, just love, passion and trust.

Leia does enjoy fighting with him. He's the best opponent she's had a long time, not since her father (Bail Organa, the only person she will ever grace with that title) has she felt so much affection in such harsh words. His nicknames for her may be annoying but she has discovered he is the only one she ever wants to spar with again. He does seem to find her flustered insults endearing after all.

Sometimes they say the wrong thing at the wrong time. She can always tell when she's stepped over the line, taken it too far. His eyes become distant and closed off, his body turning away sharply as if her words are a dagger in his heart. He walks away most of the time, needing to distance himself so as to avoid taking it all even further, she doubts he knows that his leaving is even more painful than any words could ever be.

Often, when they have a particularly colourful fight, she finds him curled up in their bed. She knows better than to try and fix it with words, so she curls her small body around his, her apology silent in these stillness of the night. She will wake up with his arm lazily pinning her to the bed, his breath warm and constant in the crook of her neck; he always forgives her and she him. It is in these small moments after the storms that she really finds peace.

Luke's ability to use the force may be improving, but he can't help but be fascinated by his sister and friend's silent conversations. He observes their looks and stolen touches, he watches as they fight over insignificant details before drifting seamlessly into perfect harmony. He cannot quite understand it. They are not physically reading each other's minds; though Leia is a powerful Jedi, she does not possess the ability to enter a mind yet. Their syncopation is purely their deep knowledge of each other, based in an understanding he can only assume comes from the infamous three week trip to Bespin. He dreads to think of how one becomes so _connected._

There is a part of him that's jealous of their closeness, but when he witnesses yet another argument between the two he decides that perhaps his training would suffer with such violent outbursts that end behind (hopefully) closed doors. Luke finds that he prefers to leave the romance to his sister and friend. They do it best after all.


End file.
